


Cavement vs. Astronauts

by wesleyfanfiction_archivist



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-05-16
Updated: 2004-05-16
Packaged: 2018-07-12 09:13:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7096309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleyfanfiction_archivist/pseuds/wesleyfanfiction_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pairing: Fred and Wesley, Wesley and Illyria with mention of others.Type: Angst.Summary: “You seek to save what’s rotted through.” --IllyriaSpoilers: AtS (Angel the Series) Season 5.15 “A Hole In The World” and 5.16 “Shells”.Authors Notes: This story was written as a reflection of what I saw played out in those two episodes. It was written as a comforting device for me. <br/>Disclaimer: The characters, various dialogue and storyline within this vignette do not belong to me, they belong solely to Joss Whedon their creator, Mutant Enemy, and the various writer’s, producers, cast, crew and actors who portray them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cavement vs. Astronauts

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [WesleyFanfiction.net](http://fanlore.org/wiki/WesleyFanFiction.Net). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [WesleyFanfiction.net collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wesleyfanfiction/profile).

She will love him. She just doesn’t know it yet. One day, she will know it. One day she will tell him in her own way that she does. And one day he will lose her. One night he will hold her in his arms and feel the loss of her in them too. The girl of his dreams will love him and that’s more than some people ever get. He knows this. But he will scoff at this in pain. Blind pain will cause him to do things that otherwise he would not do. Anger misplaced. 

“It wasn't something in you, Wesley, it was something that was done to you.”

Those words would haunt him. Taint his memory. And if his eyelids slide shut he knows her very words will echo in his mind. They will skirt around the edges of his frayed but weary heart. Making a lot of sense. 

It is something that is done to you over time. And it will become a memory. If they are done repeatedly, they will eventually become a part of you. They will live inside of you, taunting you and you will seek to find peace within. It is the art of learned behavior. It’s the art of Science. Anyone who studied the field would know that. 

This was his curse. The disease alone belonged to him. And all the death, carnage and retribution he sought out, his actions alone belonged to no one but himself. This was the monster within, the one he worked so hard to contain. He never wanted anyone, least of all her, to see what he would become if it was unleashed—let out of its strong confinements.

It feels like he’s fighting a losing battle. He’ll never win. Almost like there is a hole going right through the center of the world and they ought to have known. It’s why she’s talking about cavemen and it becomes more about why they win. It is because the new hero’s, the astronauts—they don’t have any weapons to fight against. And he is reminded. 

“No weapon forged against shall prosper.”

It is the oldest demon they are preparing to fight against. It goes back to the beginning of time. It goes back to England. The dawning of time—line zero. There is a deeper well. It is where the hole in the world starts. And it has something to do with time and everything to do with the space in between. 

It is the choice that is to be made—the line that has to be drawn between saving one girl and sacrificing the rest of humanity. 

They know you cannot fight time nor can you go back. It can stand still and it can even stop, but it cannot be erased or changed. It has been manipulated, but if you were to make an enemy of it, then you’ve already lost your battle before you even begun. Time is simply inevitable. 

His mind is in a state of complete havoc. He feels no amends can be easily made. He knows what they are staring in the face. And having to watch it happen knowing there is nothing he can do—knowing that time is not on their side, is tearing him up. And it is important to know what matters.

It’s the space that lies in between. It is the space between where the demon is and where it belongs. And that space encompasses so much of humanity. It is the choice that has to be made. It is what matters. It will play the main part in what kills Fred. It is the decision that Angel has to choose between. And it isn’t an easy one. 

There is a world worth saving out there. It’s what he does. He knows this. He knows that he cannot alter time, cannot go back and change it. It has already been manipulated enough for only reason’s he alone has access to. This is what he does. He saves the world. One soul at a time. One night at a time. He fights the good fight. And he will keep doing that. Even if it means sacrificing something that means a great deal to him.

There again is the difference of cavemen and astronauts. It is the difference between the place where they are now and where they began then. A sense of belonging and the place in which it now lies. Shells. It’s the way you start out. And both champions know it far too well. 

The space where it defines it. The space that encompasses so much of humanity. The space where they have to make a decision. It is in the space where he makes the decision.

“There’s a hole in the world. Feels like we ought to have known.”

There’s the weight of the world. Time stopped. And they lose. 

His heart is broken, shattered beyond belief. He has no sense of direction. All he knows is immeasurable pain. And he feels as if he’s let her down. He cradles her in his arms not knowing the decision has been made. Not knowing that they failed to save her. That they let her die. 

All he can think about is how much he loved. How much he loved before he even knew her. He goes back in time. Because time is all he has now. And even that is too much for him. 

She is gone. Her soul burnt in the fires of resurrection. She is lost to him forever. And yet Illyria inhabits her skin, has hollowed her out and is walking around in her shell. And he hates her for that. He seeks retribution. He seeks to save something that’s lost to him forever.

“You seek to save what’s rotted through.”

And the words cut him like a knife. They go right through him and he hardens, stiffens in her presence. He raises his axe and swings it hard and fast watching it shatter into a million pieces on the floor. He has hit some barrier that she has put up for survival purposes. 

She did this to him. She took away his world in hopes of resurrecting hers. And now she has intentions on returning to it, raising her army and seeking to destroy what was left of humanity because it reeks like offal in her mouth. He pleads with her to leave this shell she has encompassed and return to her world where she deserves. 

Wesley’s blank expression never wavers as he pulls his handgun out of his shoulder holster, points it at Knox, and cocks it. And Gunn is there. He is trying to reason with him, never once giving rise to his own involvement, his own act of betrayal. 

“Wes, don’t. We need him. I know how you feel—“.

Turning to face him, Wesley manages to choke, “Do you know?” and he stops a moment as tears lodge in his throat. 

“You didn’t feel her die.”

He is crying now.

“She was shaking with pain and so terrified and so brave. And she was better than anyone I’ve known, and better than…” and his voice begins to fade somewhat and becomes softer as tears form in his eyes. He shakes his head slowly, “And she’s gone.”

He knows it was her curiosity that played a part in getting her killed. He thinks he hates her a little for it. But Harmony assures him that the woman of his dreams loved him and that’s more than some people get. But he doesn’t believe in that moment it’s enough. 

Confronted with an act of betrayal standing before him. He understands not wanting to go back, not wanting to be who they were. He understands it. And he can forgive it. Gunn knew what was happening to her. He knew who was responsible and didn’t say anything about it. He tells him he let her die. Picking up the scalpel from the table he thrusts it into Gunn’s gut and then assures him further that he is less forgiving of that. 

He wasn’t listening to Angel’s great humanity speech. He’d fired a single gunshot to the heart and killed the man who was partially responsible for her death, then followed Illyria through the gateway to her world. Her voice fills his ears once more.

“You’re too late. My army will rise. This world will be mine once again.”

He watches her look around the temple. Takes in the sight of the broken columns noting how the place was silent as a grave. Here her temple lay in complete ruins. And he watches it register across her face. 

“It can’t be.” 

She is panting, crushed.

“It’s gone.”

Falling to her knees, she runs her hands through the sand watching it slide between her fingers. 

“My world is gone.”

He is behind her, cocking his handgun once more and pointing at the back of her head.

“Now you know how I feel.”

Illyria turns slowly, looking up at Wesley eyes wide. A low sound reverberates from nearby and he turns to see that a portal has opened up behind him. He turns his vision back towards Illyria noticing that she is no longer kneeling in front of him. She is gone. His eyes falls on her toppled statue then he walks out of the portal. 

He is packing up her belongings. His hands gently touch the commemorative plate that he’s covering in bubble wrap. His eyes move to the Dixie Chicks poster she had hanging on the wall. 

Illyria is there standing in the doorway.

“You grieve still…for a single life.”

Without turning to face at her, he shuts his eyes tight and speaks to her through gritted teeth.

“Why are you here?”

“I...I’m not certain.” 

She looks around.

“This place…was part of the shell.”

He cannot control himself. He’s not even sure he wants to. He snaps.

“Don’t call her—“

He inhales deeply.

“The woman you killed had a name.”

She enters further and continues to speak to him.

“This is important to you. Things have names. The shell... Winifred Burkle... She can't return to you.”

Wesley continues packing her things tearfully.

“I know.” 

He says simply.

“Yet there are fragments. When her brain collapsed, electrical spasms channeled into my function system... memories.” She raises her hand up, showing her fingers displayed where there is a gap between her thumb and index finger where a spark forms.

“Please Wesley, why can’t I say?” 

He hears Fred’s voice mimicked. The last words she said to him before he felt her die in his arms. 

He has to turn away. He is nearly sick and he is crying.

“No.”

He looks out the window.

“Leave.”

“I’ve nowhere to go. My kingdom is long dead.”

Illyria’s voice grows softer as she speaks.

“Long dead. There’s much I don’t understand. I’ve become overwhelmed. I am unsure of my place.”

He turns to her angrily.

“Your place is with the rest of your people: dead and turned to ash.”

“Perhaps…but I exist here. I must learn to walk in this world.”

She approaches Wesley slowly.

“I’ll need your help, Wesley.”

And he is frowning and choking back tears. 

“If I were to help you find your way…you have to learn to change. You mustn’t kill.”

She speaks again. 

“You killed the Qwa’ha Xhan in defiance of your leader.”

He shakes his head as he looks down at her. She is broken and standing before him. And she is what killed the woman he loved. She is what hollowed her out and used her body for a shell. Referred to it as a carcass that she would not even dare to change if she could. She is what took her from him. And he will help her. 

“He murdered the woman I love.”

He says as if to justify his own actions. His own acts of retribution.

“And that made it just.”

He sighs as his hands come to rest on his hips.

“No. It wasn’t just.”

There is a beat and then.

“I’m probably the last man in the world to teach you what’s right.”

And there is her voice again.

“But you will. If I abide, you will help me.”

His voice is soft.

“Yes.”

And she inquires.

“Because I look like her?”

By then he is looking at her with tears in his eyes as he whispers.

“Yes.”

Illyria comes to rest beside Wesley. She is looking out the window of the lab below where her sarchophagus lies as she speaks once more. 

“We cling to what is gone. Is there anything in this life but grief?”

Wesley’s vision looks out from beyond the lab.

“There's love. There's hope...for some. There's hope that you'll find something worthy... that your life will lead you to some joy... that after everything... you can still be surprised.”

“Is that enough?”

She asks and looks at Wesley.

“Is that enough to live on?”

They know what this is all about. Shells. A world rotted through. And as long as there is one person who will go on fighting for it, who can still believe in it, it is worth saving. And if they keep fighting even if they are broken and cannot go on—as long as there is surprise--they will come out whole on the other side. 

If they are not afraid to love the unexpected.


End file.
